The Letters: Confessions from a Vampire
by truthinpassion
Summary: After the Deep Dark is there any hope that Light may return to each of our heroes’ hearts? Chapter's 1 & 2 have been re edited slightly. Feel free to read them again.
1. Chapter 1

The Letters: Confessions of a Vampire

Disclaimer: I hold no claim on the rights to the series Blood Ties or the Blood Books by Tanya Huff, but thank these marvelously blessed creative people for giving them life and then gifting them to us.

Author's Note: We have all been so unhappy the way things have ended for our dear friends; Henry, Vicki, Mike, Coreen, and the world they live in. Though we pray that truly there is no end for BT, many of us have woven our own better endings. This is mine. (Pardon the pun, but I revamped this a bit since its first publication. There were some glaring errors and some unsmooth transitions. Sorry for that. I hope it reads better this time.)

Chapter One

The First Time

Sitting behind cluttered desk, Vicki stared blindly at the phone she had just set back to its cradle. Strangely enough, it had been Kate calling to let her know that Mike had been cleared for return to duty.

"He's on probation, Vicki. Every case he gets for the next month will be reviewed." Kate had told her. "If you have any feelings for him, please don't mess this up. Unlike you, being a cop is his life. Don't…." Kate sighed.

Vicki could hear the wheels turning in the normally restrained woman's mind. Instead of waiting for her to finish, Vicki intervened. "Take care of him for me, Kate." She said quietly before severing the connection.

Now, in the solitude of her office, Vicki felt her heart crack just a little bit more and was surprised to even think there was anything left of it that could. She had been certain the Board would take a more honest look at Mike's career than Crowley ever could, but there had been that chance, that small chance that they wouldn't and it had weighed on her, especially when Mike refused to let her speak on his behalf. She didn't know what she would have done to fix it, if he had been let go. She didn't even know if she could short of begging Henry to intervene with his 'vampire mojo'. But that wouldn't have been an option anyway. Henry was gone.

Those three words started the ache inside her all over again. Unaware of her movements, she placed an unsteady hand over her heart and gently added pressure, trying to ease the pain tightening her chest. In the last five days since Henry's departure from her life, Coreen's resurrection, and Mike's passionate dismissal, she has had nothing to distract her from the pain, from facing herself and the disaster she has made her life.

Shifting her gaze from the phone to the brightening morning light spearing through the open slats of her blinds, the glint of dark amber at the corner of her desk captured her attention.

"Oh, yeah, like you've been a lot of help." She muttered to the near empty decanter of whiskey mocking her. "A headache the size of a freight train and bad stomach on top. Some friend you turned out to be."

And some friend _you_ turned out to be, echoed the voice of her conscience, which had yet to be silent since she had seen the door slammed behind Henry once last time.

She growled low in her throat, then laughed at how similar she sounded to someone knew…and missed so badly she didn't know if she could draw a breath without feeling the pain of his leaving. Then came the tears; just two this morning, a far cry from the unending stream of them the night before and the night before that and the night before that.

Night; it had become the hardest time of the day to get through. Not because of her lack of vision….She snorted. Yes, well maybe because of exactly that, she admitted to herself. Lack of vision, the phrase was the double edged sword she cut herself deeply with every day since hearing the diagnosis of her impending blindness nearly two years ago. And with it, she has managed o cut out a major organ and a limb.

She sighed, but did not wipe them away like she has brushed away everything and every one else in her life. They were honest tears; tears of regret, of grief, and even tears of self pity. And they reminded her of what a fool she had been.

God, what an arrogant blind fool! And why? Because she had been so blinded by her fear of looking weak and needy she slammed the door in the face of everything that truly made a person strong; family, friends, and love. That's why. What had Norman as Henry said to her? She should embrace her fear, it would keep her sane. Instead, she turned her blind eyes upon it and created the insanity which now hovered over her future.

Again, Henry had been right. He could not protect her from herself.

Leaning back in her chair, using the its gentle rocking motion to try and calm her, she closed her burning eyes and let her thoughts spin where they may. Images of the past with Mike, with Henry, flitted across her brain bringing sparks of happiness, but floods of despair. When, she wondered, had it all changed? When had she grown so afraid of opening herself to love?

Lost in her thoughts, Vicki did not hear the rattling of a key in the front office door. Nor did she hear the clatter of boot heels across the hardwood floor. What did catch her attention was the mouth watering aroma of fresh hot coffee and the sweet sugary scent of cinnamon and frosting.

Eyes popping open, she turned and stared at the dark figure hovering uncertainly at the doorway.

"Coreen!" Jumping to her feet, Vicki crossed the room and took the girl in her arms. Breast to breast, cheek to cheek, Vicki held the girl tightly to her for a moment then pulled away to examine her closely. Hot pink streaked hair, dark make-up elegantly applied, black lace bustier over purple satin above a short black gypsy cotton skirt and knee high black boots, she looked like Coreen through and through, until Vicki's gaze fell to the edge of her scar peeking out from the purple collar. A frown followed the smile she had worn and a tendril of fear skittered across her sore heart. "You shouldn't be here, Coreen."

"You don't want me?" Coreen asked, a small smile hovering on her very darkly painted lips. "I brought coffee." She wheedled.

Taking the offered cup and the small pink bakery box from the goth's hands, Vicki carefully placed them on the desk. "That's not what I meant. I meant it's only been five days since—" Vicki choked on the rest of her words.

Seeing her Vicki's distress, Coreen laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'm fine. A few bad dreams, but other than that, I'm great. Ready to hunt down some demon butt!"

Vicki shuddered beneath the hand. It was a few seconds before she could turn and meet the young girl's bright gaze. "I can't fight him alone, Coreen."

"You're not alone, Vicki." Coreen said softly, squeezing the older woman's shoulder once before letting go. _You never were_, she wanted to add, but kept that part to herself. Just because Vicki had given her a hug—and sure it had been the first honest felt hug voluntarily given by the woman—didn't mean Coreen had the right to castigate her. It was obvious by the swollen eyes and her pale complexion Vicki had spent the past five days in an emotional hell and she could not find it in her heart to add to the burden, especially when she herself was only beginning to see the bigger picture.

"Henry's gone."

The words were baldly stated and in spite of Vicki's wish to sound detached, Coreen heard clearly the anguish behind them.

Unable to look Coreen in the eye, uncertain just how much of that scene in Henry's condo she had witnessed or recalled, Vicki moved back to the false comfort of the chair behind her desk. As she stared out the window, she heard the rustle of papers.

"He left this for me to give to you." Coreen's voice was almost a whisper.

'This' was a large pristine white envelope slid across the battered surface of her desk. Scrawled in elegant style was a single word; Victoria.

Heart pounding so hard in her chest the echo of the its beating in her ears drowned the sound of Coreen returning to her place in the front office. Vicki felt herself teetering on the edge of a meltdown. Every ragged breath she took brought to her lungs the intoxicating scent that uniquely belonged to Henry. He had taught her that; to appreciate the fragrance of the world around her. Sure her sense of smell would never be as refined as his, but since her evening with Henry after her meeting with the director of Garden Hill Funeral Services, she learned how just how powerful a scent could affect a body's will.

Groaning silently to herself, Vicki recalled how effectively Henry had been seduced by the perfumes of the mortuary imbedded in her clothes and skin. How sweetly and skillfully and honestly he had shared that seduction with her. The feel of him, so close, deeply drawing her essences into himself, the sound of his voice as he spoke of his desires had ignited an instant fire deep inside. With scarcely a touch of his face against hers, with the whisper of his breath brushing her skin, she had melted. The feel of her juices sliding from her womb and soaking her panties sent her into a near panic. The flick of his tongue against her ear even as she tried to detour his attention to the strange events taking place on her computer screen sent her spinning into a butterfly of an orgasm. It had been all she could do to hang on to her sanity, to not arch her body into his touch and moan her satisfaction.

What would he have done if she had?

Another sigh flew from her lips and the sound of it sparked a bit of familiar anger. She was sighing too much. She needed to get a grip, regain control. She stared at the envelope. So he left her a package…via Coreen no less! It was probably just some old case notes he had.

Picking it up, Vicki forced herself to not trace the bold graceful lines of her first name with her finger. Instead, she flipped it over and with cold precision flicked the metal clasp and peeled back the flap. The heady aroma of Henry struck her heart and soul as she tipped the envelope and poured out its contents; letters, personal and private, wrapped lovingly in a red silk ribbon tied and sealed with black wax bearing the Tudor family's ancient crest.

"Oh God." The small cry snuck past her lips. Though she had never heard Henry tell of this, never had personally experienced something of this nature, a deep feminine part of her knew exactly what they were. Her first instinct was to jump out of her chair, to run as fast and far away as she possibly could. But something stronger than fear kept her there. The shudder from a sob she refused to release lived in her fingertips as she gently touched the fine linen envelope at the top of the stack. It bore no name, only a single word; Angel. "Oh, Henry, what have you done?"

The broken whisper snagged Coreen's ears. Watching Vicki through the open glass peek-through between her front office and Vicki's private domain, Coreen watched the older woman's hesitation. It was easy to read the pain on Vicki's face. Coreen had experienced that vision all too clearly the night Vicki had brought her back from Hell. She held her breath as Vicki reached to run a trembling finger over the first letter, then gasped as she caught a clear glimpse of the blood black brands imbedded in Vicki's flesh. Between one heart beat and the next Coreen went from feeling lost and guilty to being submerged in the warmth of having been suddenly given deeper understanding of the way life and death works. For the first time in a year she felt not the weight of guilt for having caused Vicki so much pain, but a glimmer of hope. Before now, Coreen had always believed if it hadn't been for her own desire to wreak vengeance upon the monster who had stolen her Ian from her, Vicki would never have ended up scarred and scared down to her very soul. For that reason alone, Coreen had done her best to railroad Vicki into letting her be her assistance. She was not stupid. She had been exposed to enough of the darker side of life to know that although Henry had stopped Asteroth from venturing into the world that first time, things would never be the same. Vicki was marked and what a demon marked a demon took. It was only a matter of time. Coreen knew she owed Vicki a greater debt than she could ever repay, but she swore to herself that she would at least try to keep Vicki safe from all that was about to come after her. What better place to repay her debt from then to be at Vicki's side? She just wished she'd been able to see just how much Vicki had changed the moment she had been touched by the dark side.

Unfortunately, Coreen had not known Vicki prior to Ian's death. She had not realized until too late how much Vicki had taken to heart her responsibility to keep the world safe. When she had finally realized the cost of her own vengeance had been the sacrifice of every ounce of possible happiness in Vicki's life Coreen woke and slept with the weight of that knowledge and did her best to find a way to undo the damage she caused.

Right up until the moment when Asteroth had burned himself into her body she fought to correct her mistake. The moment her heart beat once more in her chest, she knew only that she was grateful for Norman's ineptitude, Vicki's unrelenting drive, Henry's honor, and yes, even Asteroth's demonic nature. Without any of that, she would have remained in the Limbo Asteroth had cast her soul into or worse, she would have become Norman's demon bride as he had so sickly desired.

Life was about balance, she had been told by her spiritual mentor, and Coreen's eyes and mind were now opened to the truth of that very statement. Wickedness could not live without Goodness. Sacrifice could not happen without the need for gain. It didn't matter if that gain was for the side of Light or the side of Dark. Evil plans could not be laid without having a countermeasure put into place. Tip the scales and chaos would reign. No man could live a life of purity, but neither could life survive in pure dark design. Dark desires may have given those marks on Vicki's soul, but love had been their creator; Coreen's love for Ian, Norman's love for Coreen, and Asteroth's love of unending Dark Times. Love brought the power of them to Vicki's control; love of justice when Magnus O'Connor struck against those she once worked with, love of Mike when the solving of the riddle of Pandora's Box had led to his death (oh, yes, in a weak moment, Vicki had told her what happened), love for Henry once to defend him against Norman and once to save him from certain death at a sorcerer's hand, and love for her when Vicki chose to bring Coreen back from torments of Hell.

Henry was wrong, Coreen thought as she watched Vicki carefully pull the top envelope out from beneath the blood red ribbon. "And if this doesn't go the way I believe it should be, then I'll just have to find a way to make that damned undead bastard prince see the Light." Coreen swore to herself as she turned her gaze away from Vicki's office, leaving the woman to find her own enlightenment in private.

Completely unaware of Coreen's epiphany, Vicki stared at the red wax seal poured over the flap of the linen envelope in her hand. It did not bear the mark of the Tudors, but instead, carried the raised edges of a perfect and beautiful letter H. Breath held, she slid her fingernail beneath the flap and broke the seal. Her eyes closed briefly against a pain that pierced not her body, but her soul. It was fear. She knew it was fear. She could taste its bitterness in the back of her throat, feel the burn of it in the tears left hanging in her eyes, but she was not going to run away as she has done before. She was going to take the advice of a demon. She would embrace her fear, make it her own and grow stronger for having done so. No longer was she going to keep her blind eyes turned away. Whatever Henry had to tell her, she would bear it. She had to.

With careful fingers, she pulled the small folded pages from their paper cage, opened them, and began to read.

_Angelic…._

_That is the word which springs to mind when I think of how the sound of your voice above all other sounds in that cold and foul smelling alleyway rescued me. Like the bells of heaven it called to me…you called to me, pulling me from a blackness of a century old memory. When I looked up I found myself faced with a vision that instantly awakened within me a hunger more powerful than any I have ever had for blood or vengeance. You thought I had disappeared from your sight, but the truth is I could not have moved to save my immortal soul. Instinct from hundreds of years of self preservation cloaked me, but there I remained within a hand's reach of you, unseen and intoxicated. The heat rolling from your perfect form warmed my cold flesh. The pulsating rush of your blood through your veins hypnotized me. I grew drunk on the sweet spice of your body; the fragrance of your soul._

_For the first time in a very long time, I felt._

_At the time I did not recognize the sensations filling me, but I could not turn away so I followed you until you got into a cab a half a block away and disappeared from my sight. The moment you left I was like the moon eclipsed by the sun; returned to the hollow darkness in which I existed._

_What would happen, I wonder now as I sit amidst the remnants of my long life. What would have happened if I had made myself known? Would you have seen me for the monster that I am? Or would you be like all others whom I have known; easily persuaded by my charms?_

_I think, perhaps, it is best if I do not find out, lest the disappointment add one more feather to the weight of my growing disenchantment._

_So then I bid you safe journey, angel, and sweet, long lasting life._

_Henry_


	2. Chapter 2

The Letters: Confessions of a Vampire

Disclaimer: I hold no claim on the rights to the series Blood Ties or the Blood Books by Tanya Huff, but thank these marvelously blessed creative people for giving them life and then gifting them to us.

Author's Note: This story or rather this interlude and its resolution is going to take some time so prepare your selves for a long ride and a long read. (Slightly adjusted from original posting 12/22/2007)

Chapter Two

Fate's Humor

_Oh, dear lord, save me_, thought Vicki as her trembling hands held the page to her heart. This was worse and so much better than she had imagined. How dare he do this to her? How dare he finally let her in knowing that he had just ripped everything he was away? And how ironic?

A tiny sob shuddered past her throat. How was she going to get through this? Did she dare go any further?

She glanced at the ribbon encased stack and knew that she would not be able to just ignore them. They were her last connection to Henry. They were now the only thing left of him she had. Cruel and generous to a fault, she knew they were the heart of a seventeen year old boy who longed only for love and the soul of a man who believed his life was an equal sacrifice to obtaining it.

She sighed then grimaced as the breathy sound reached her ears. For a moment the old Vicki wobbled to life as she wondered if Coreen had a spell or portion to rid her of these melancholy sounds.

She gasped and looked up. Coreen! She had forgotten the girl was still here. Arching her neck, Vicki peered through the open wall in search of her assistant. She was greatly relieved the Goth seemed deep into her own research. Did she know what was in the envelopes? Vicki wondered. No, Henry was too private a man to offer up the knowledge. Hell, look what it had taken for him to offer them up to her! The thrusting his own sword through his body, the stealing and drinking of his blood in a black magic ritual, the decision to save Coreen over sending a Demon Lord back to the Hell he belonged, and the choice made to stay behind while the one who held her heart moved on.

Carefully folding the page and sliding it back into its envelope, Vicki knew that Henry most definitely would not have said a word to Coreen about what this envelope contained, not even to save his soul.

Lips compressing on a flash of anger, Vicki reached for the second note. That had been the problem, hadn't it? Henry always danced around the proverbial bush, never truly coming out to say what it was he wanted or felt. Oh sure, he tried. Vicki knew he tried, but his words were always ambiguous while she was a lay the cards out on the table and tell 'em like it is kind of girl…when she wasn't running from him and the maelstrom of feelings he woke inside her that is. She had no patience with trying to figure out meaning behind words. Emotional guessing games, unless they involved sociopathic murderers, was not a skill she possessed. If only he had just confronted her!

_If only she had just told him_, harped that voice of conscience.

Her heart trembled and backed away from the thought. She couldn't have said anything. What if she had been wrong in reading between the lines? She hated to be wrong. She hated that more than anything else in the world….No, not more than anything. More than anything, she was coming to realize, was that she hated being alone, she hated not having Henry.

Glancing at her hands, Vicki saw that her fingers unbeknownst to her conscious will had pulled the second note from the stack and slit the seal. Her slender shoulders rose and fell with the deep breath she took in an effort to settle her frazzled nerves. With a delicate touch, she slid the pages from their cocoon and opened them to her gaze.

_Angel,_

_The Fates have proven once again how twisted their humor can be. I had believed myself to be on the hunt for prey, for the filth which has invaded my territory, but instead I found you._

_Again._

_The rhythmic pulse of the underground club soothed the beast inside me. Though it had been some time, I had been there before, pacing the floor, weaving between writhing bodies, searching for that perfect delight to satisfy my night's craving. However, this night, I sought something else, the stupid fool who would dare to call up the Evils of Hell. The pounding of a hundred hearts beat inside my body, reminding me of the organ that once beat so swiftly in my own chest. The scent of blood and lust flooding my being teased the beast within me to come out and play. Imagine my shock as I twined myself between the press of bodies when the scent of you struck me above all other fragrances of humanity in the room. Through the darkness, broken by flashes of red and blues lights, I watched you descend the long stairs to this underworld as a halo of light shown mistily behind you. _

_For an infinitesimal moment out of time, everything froze. _

_My world, my heart, the beast within me, they all grew quiet and still until that last step when you stumbled._

_The beast and I were at your side in an instant, ready to touch, ready to protect, ready to dance to your desires._

"_You're new here." I said, hoping to ease your way, hoping to alert you to the fact that I was not. It is a game with me, you see. _

_A game of time. My secret. _

"_Yeah, but not to that line." _

_Your voice, the bell song of heaven, struck true and hard._

_The man in me was elated and relieved. You had not fallen to the Charm of my existence, though I heard the skip and falter of your heart for the briefest of moments. _

_The beast in me, however, was not at all pleased. He recalled you being in that alley, instinct told him you were not here for the party. Self preservation drove him to know who or what it was you hunted. _

_Yes, he knew you hunted. A hunter can always recognize another of its kind._

_The power within me rose. I relished the transition from man to beast, but I did not find satisfaction in using the power of Compulsion against you. _

"_What are you doing here?"_

_There was that usual brief moment where the tendrils of my mind wove itself toward another's, and then to my second shock of the evening, you looked away. No mortal has ever looked away. Not in the nearly five hundred years of my existence! When our gazes met once more, the anger in yours set my passion to flame. The threat in your words, in your voice, though in practice would have been inconsequential, sent a shiver of delight down my spine. You were Uninfluenced! I should have known, should have suspected an angel such as yourself could not be so easily persuaded._

_Basking in the joy of the discovery, I released my hold, a hold I had not been aware of until you so glaringly pointed it out. As you turned and walked away, the predator in me smiled. _

_The hunt was on. Fate has played her hand and you have raised the stakes._

_I pray the game will not end in tragedy._

_Henry_


	3. Chapter 3

CONTINUIED: The Letters: Confessions of a Vampire

DISCLAIMER: I hold no claim on the rights to the series Blood Ties or the Blood Books by Tanya Huff, but thank these marvelously blessed creative people for giving them life and then gifting them to us.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: My thanks go to all those who written reviews expressing your continued delight in the romance between our Henry & Vicki, and the relationships they share with Mike, Coreen, and the rest of the Blood Ties characters. Love letters can be a deeply stirring and powerful form of private communication between a man and a woman. The written word is often easier to compose than saying things in the bold light of day…or in Henry's case the kaleidoscope of his nights. There is so much depth to all these characters it leaves us with an infinite amount of satisfying possibilities; satisfying for us as well as for them. I only hope this tale fills that role.

Chapter Three

We Meet Again

Vicki couldn't remember the last time she took a breath or blinked, but neither these basic bodily functions seemed necessary to the overall panic beginning to fill her. Two letters. Just two. And she was back to the instinct of jumping up and running away.

She took a shaky breath and reached for the coffee cup sitting to her right. The rich hot flavor of mocha, coffee, and cream soothed its way past her tight throat, but its familiarity gave no true comfort. Would any normal thing she surrounded her with ever again? She looked at her office, a mishmash of furniture styles that were both warm and functional. They held many memories. The sofa, the table that lit from underneath, the two wood chairs sitting across from her, the doorframe, the very floor itself…

God, she was pathetic! What was wrong with her? She hadn't felt such terrible pangs when she and Mike ended their relationship. Sure she had memories of that, fond ones and foul ones alike, but she did not see him, feel him, smell him in every room she moved through. Would she ever get the scent of him?

Self loathing at her weakness sparked a bout of anger. Opening her desk drawers, she began rifling through the contents.

"Coreen!"

Before the sound of her name could fade from the room, the Goth was there, her ever present eager smile pasted on her face.

Vicki looked at her dourly. "Where's that room aerosol you bought after Mr. Garlic Pants left last month?"

"Which one? The Forest Herbal or the Sweet Rose?"

Vicki gaped at her. Sweet Rose? "I don't care. I need one to…." Vicki stopped. Oh yeah, what were you going to say there, Nelson? Got any vamp-be gone air freshener? She sighed. "Never mind."

Coreen shrugged. She was used to Vicki changing the direction of a conversation in mid sentence. In fact, she loved the challenge of trying to keep up with her and surprising Vicki when she did. "So what was in the envelope?"

The words had the same effect of water on fire.

Slamming the last drawer closed, Vicki's hand landed quickly on the envelope, pulling it to cover the ribboned stack.

Too late!

"Are those letters?" Coreen was nearly bouncing on the tip of her toes with excitement. "Oh, Vicki, did Henry send you love letters?"  
Vicki snorted and waved her idea away as if it were a sudden swarm of bees hovering in front of her. "Love letters? From Henry? What on earth would make you think that?"

"Uhmmm, first of all, there are at least a dozen or so envelopes tied with a red ribbon beneath your hand." She pointed her dragon tipped pen toward the object in question. "Only love letters come tied in ribbon. Second, you're trying to hide them from me. And third, you're turning red."

"Am not."

"Are too."

Vicki sat back. "Don't you have work to do?"

Coreen sighed, all fun draining from her face. "How do you know when you've made the right choice?" She asked in quiet tones.

Vicki stiffened. "Is this a rhetorical question or are you talking about something more specific?"

Coreen shrugged and smiled with appealing innocence. "A little of both maybe."

Vicki sighed and let her chin sink into her chest. It was an honest question and it deserved an honest answer, though Vicki's first instinct was to change the subject to something far on the polar scale of opposites as she could get. However, she had promised herself to make some changes and if there was one person in this room who deserved to have an honest response, it was Coreen. How much the girl had gone through on her behalf.

Unsettled by the silence, Coreen started to back away. "It's okay. You don't need to answer that. I'll just get back to monitoring the police calls for any sightings of a maniacal priest laying curses instead of benedictions"

"Sometimes," Vicki began quietly, her voice halting Coreen's backward step as effectively as bullet. "The right choice is obvious. A fact is an inescapable fact. An answer the only answer. But I think you're asking me if I m sure what I've done in the past few weeks was the right thing to do." With unexpected suddenness, Vicki raised her blue gaze to meet the dark shadowed one of Coreen's. Left fist clenching tightly, she brought to the place just outside where her heart still beat. "It's because of what I feel in here, Coreen. When the facts are tangled with emotion, when lives depend on a quick decision and the guts to back it up, I depend on what happens here, in my heart." Her voice faltered slightly, but she swallowed and moved on with that famed Vicki Nelson control Coreen was so familiar with. "I know the decision is right, regardless of others' contradictions or lack of acceptance, when the fear turns to peace, when the idea becomes solid resolve. Does that answer your question? Or are you asking me if I did right by choosing your life over locking Asteroth back in Hell?"

Silence filled the room broken only by the sound of a car passing by. The sound of the wheels grinding on the pavement then dipping into the hole two buildings down brought Coreen back to the world by slow degrees. Feeling a bit weak in the knees suddenly, she swayed towards one of the client chairs and sank into the seat. "I don't know if I can live with myself if more people die." She whispered.

Vicki nodded. She had wondered how long it would take for Coreen to place the blame and responsibility on herself. Feeling the girl's pain and inner struggle as closely as she feels her own, Vicki got up and moved to her side. She did not take a seat beside her, but knelt next to her instead. "You deserve to live, Coreen. Never think that you don't."

"But what about you?" Lifting her left hand, she placed it on Vicki's wrist and turned her hand upward, revealing the black tattoo burned into her flesh. "You had a chance to end all this, to take back your own life, but you…chose me instead."

Uncomfortable with Coreen's touch, Vicki subtly pulled her arm out of reach. "It was a game, Coreen. Another twisted game of Asteroth's to get me to submit and bring him fully into this world. Yeah, he gave me a choice, but one choice was a lie and the other truth."

"Henry believes…." Coreen's voice faltered on a sob. "He believes you made the wrong choice. He thinks it would have been better for me to remain dead. Oh God, he wishes I were dead! I could see it in his eyes, the condemnation; the disgust that I was still alive."

With a wail, Coreen crumpled forward, burying her face in her hands as great gulping sobs wracked her slim frame.

Without second guessing herself, Vicki shifted and wrapped Coreen in her arms. "No, Coreen. No. Henry doesn't wish you dead."

"But he said—"

Rubbing her arms around Coreen's slumped shoulders, Vicki leaned close and placed her cheek atop her head. "I know what he said." She murmured. "And as much as it floored me to hear it, I understand why, but believe me Coreen, when I tell you, it did not come from a desire to see you dead."

"But he was right, Vicki. I have brought so much pain into your life!"

Startled, Vicki leaned back. "What are you talking about?"

Coreen was silent for several moments, her breath stuttering as she tried to regain control of herself. When she was finally certain the tears were once more held behind the dam, she looked up. "Ian."

"Ian? What does he…? Oh. Oh, no. No. No. No, Coreen."

"Yes. If it weren't for me coming to you, begging you to find his killer you would never have fallen into Norman's hands, never…."

"And Asteroth would have settled in this world a long time ago because Norman would have completed the ceremony. You would have been his demon bride and Hell would be reigning upon earth!" Feeling a sudden excess of nervous energy, Vicki rose to her feet while Coreen digested her words. "You are not responsible for my decisions, Coreen. I could have said no."

"I don't think I ever looked at it quite that way before." Coreen admitted.

Vicki glanced back at her from the window. "Feel better now?"

A smile threatened to blossom on Coreen's mascara blotched face. "Yep, I think I do."

"Good. Go redo your face and get back to work. I don't pay you enough to wallow in emotional breakdowns."

"Same old Vicki," muttered Coreen as she marched with a bounce back to her station at the front of the agency.

"Yeah," whispered Vicki as she turned back to her desk. "Same old Vicki." Reaching across it, she nudged the larger envelope aside and stared at the third letter resting quietly beneath the ribbon. In bold strokes of black ink, her full name silently challenged her. 'Victoria'. There was a power in that word, her name. Though she read it with her eyes, she heard **his** voice against her ear. "Victoria."

She shuddered. She had always hated that name, such a girly, nose-stuck-in-the-air name. But when he had said it that one time….Names have power. She had power, but was it enough to resist him?

Why did she resist?

She picked out the envelope, cracked the seal, and pulled out the page.

_My Angel Huntress_

_I know your name. _

_Victoria. _

_The feel of it on my tongue, the sound of it in my ears as I whisper out loud in the solitude of my lair, is a promise of unknown delights. _

_Victoria._

_You prefer the shorter, sweeter sound of Vicki, but there is nothing sweet in you unless perhaps it is the blood pulsing through your veins. I could feel it as I lifted you into my arms and carried you away to…I cannot call it a place of safety, for I am not safe. _

_Not safe at all. _

_But I took you home when every instinct I possessed screamed that I leave you in the park to be taken care of by your kind. Something else, though, some glimmer of the man I have long denied stirred enough to urge me… to do otherwise. So I held you; my prize in the hunt for deadlier prey. You body in my arms was as the softest of silks and the hardness of stone. You are a dichotomy and a distraction, one that a beast such as myself should avoid at all costs. _

_But I didn't._

_I held you close while your mind wandered in the darkness I sent you to. No one saw the seventeen year old boy carrying the gorgeous damsel in distress. Vampire glamour is a handy thing; one I enjoy far too much sometimes. No one saw my steps falter before the door leading to my most personal and private domain. _

_The moment was less than the space between two glorious beats of your heart, but it was a long enough time for that dead and buried man within me to rise up; Henry the Bastard Boy Prince. _

_Chivalry has truly not died, my huntress, but it lasted only as far as my sofa. As I laid you down upon the black leather, it was not because of a need to see to your comfort after my inadvertent cruelty, but the instincts of an animal who knows when something, no matter how alluring, is not good for you. _

_The warmth of your skin called to me. How I yearned to absorb it into me._

_The intoxicating perfume of your soul, dare I admit, lured me in a way that blood never has. _

_You have no idea the control…_

_I should not have brought you home, but I couldn't resist you, the mortal huntress who seeks things beyond her wildest dreams. _

_Hunger and curiosity warred within me. By the very nature of what I have chosen to become, a predator, I should have taken what lay offered before me, but because I was once a man, the need for a different kind of satisfaction triumphed. _

_The moment you arose, like Diana or Jeanne D'arc, ready to once again take up the battle, I was ensnared. While we danced a game of wit with words, though I challenged you with the truth of my existence only to turn around and threaten yours, I felt the centuries' old walls I had built around my heart begin to crack. _

_When I opened my mouth and asked for your help, I was holding the hammer willingly to the stone._

_When you confessed to your attraction, not to the handsome young man of wealth, but to the monster I have become, the final bastion crumbled. _

_The scent of you lingers in my home even now and as I watch the tendrils of dawn's first light snake across the sky, scattering the darkness that has become my sanctuary, I find myself left with only one question. _

_What could be worse than a predator in love with his prey?_

_Henry, the Vampire Prince _


	4. Chapter 4

CONTINUIED: The Letters: Confessions of a Vampire

DISCLAIMER: I hold no claim on the rights to the series Blood Ties or the Blood Books by Tanya Huff, but thank these marvelously blessed creative people for giving them life and then gifting them to us.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sometimes….Okay, most of the time, I surprise even myself!

Chapter Four

A Part of Me

Oh, God.

Feeling extraordinarily warm in the confines of her office, Vicki jumped to her feet and raced to the thermostat on the wall. As her hand reached for the control, she noticed two things at once; first was the fact that her usually steady hand wasn't so steady at the moment as it hovered over the switch, and second; the temperature in the room read a balmy 70 degrees.

And what do you deduce from that, Ms. Private Investigator, queried that subconscious bitch in her head.

Oh. God.

Backing away from the dial, Vicki tugged nervously on the hem of her utilitarian grey t-shirt. Blowing a long breath, she spun on her heels, but found herself at a loss as to where she could go. She knew what she was doing. She was doing the same thing she always did when her emotions were on the line…avoiding it. Avoiding the next letter.

But she couldn't avoid it. The lure….Curiosity alone challenged her in a way that only Henry could know…and use. This last letter…that was the Henry she knew he could be. That was the Henry she had secretly desired. That was the Henry she lost. Why should she punish herself now by listening to his thoughts. Would it bring him back? Would it change the choices she made?

Or would it only serve to further bruise her already battered heart?

Better yet, why would he do this to her? Was it vengeance?

No. Henry, for all his predatory ways, was a man of distinguished honor. He lived by a code long extinct in this world. Vengeance, or for that matter, comeuppance was not something he would allow himself to indulge in.

But he is like a wild animal, a beast, assured her inner voice. When injured and wounded the first hand they would lash out at is the one closest to them. Especially if that very same hand is the one that inflicted the wound in the first place.

"Oh, Henry, what am I going to do?" Vicki whispered as she made her way back to her desk.

The only answer was the sound of Coreen in the outer office pecking away at the computer keys as she thoroughly searched for any clue as to where Asteroth may have gone to hide.

Asteroth…even when thought of in her head, the name made her shudder with revulsion. She recalled all to well the lust in the Demonlord's voice, the hot burning desire in his eyes and words as he held her arm to his face to tease the sensitive flesh near her wrist as Henry lay writhing on the floor, his sword once more imbedded in his belly.

Vicki gasped. Legs suddenly too weak to sustain her, she staggered against the desk. "Oh, God." As her hands went out to catch her weight, the amber bottle of whiskey went crashing to the floor. Dazed, she watched the dark liquid slowly seep across the hardwood floor and in the shadows of her room, with the disease of her eyes guiding her sight, she could have sworn it to be blood.

'Vicki!"

Strong, slender arms, took her weight and helped her to her chair. While she sat there, nearly boneless and mindless, Coreen quickly and efficiently cleaned up the mess, cleaned up the blood as she had no doubt done before.

"Coreen, I—"

"Vicki, what happened?"

They spoke at odds, but it was Vicki who broke the tie. "It was my fault." She said.

As Coreen stared at her, measured the expression of horror frozen on her face, she felt a cold wave of dread wash over her. "What's your fault?"

"You. Asteroth." She lifted her arms, brands facing up. "These."

"No—"

Fists flying onto the desktop, Vicki growled. "Yes! Yes it is! If I had waited for Henry like he asked when Norman had you that first time….or talked him out of his panic when our mummified sorcerer had come to claim him for his own instead of taking matters into my own hands, neither you or Henry would have been hurt. He would still be here, you would not be scarred, and Mike…well, I don't know about Mike. He's been walking the thin line for some time. Still, don't you see? It's my fault."

Skidding around the desk, Coreen took up a similar pose that Vicki had held a little more than half an hour previously. "Vicki, it isn't. How can you say that?"

Vicki closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose beneath her glasses. "It's the sword."

"Henry's sword?"

"We…I used it against Henry during the ritual. Asteroth used it on Henry…a blatant message. The ritual. Henry said I swore an oath to evil…Oh, God, Coreen. I swore an oath to Asteroth in exchange for the power to defeat the sorcerer."

"To save Henry."

"What does it matter? It was because of that ritual that Asteroth targeted you. It was because of that ritual that Asteroth used Henry's sword against him as I had done. It was his message to me, to make me remember what I owed him in exchange for Henry's life. It was his message that he could have taken Henry's life and because he didn't I am so much deeper in his debt."

"Vicki, no…What you did was right. It was the right choice. You were being driven into a corner, what else could you do?"

"Talk to Henry?"

"He wasn't in any frame of mind to listen."

"I could have made him listen."

Coreen shook her head. "No, you couldn't have. I was there, remember? He wasn't about to listen to anyone."

"He said there was another way."

Making the most unlady-like sound, Coreen eased to her knees and gripped both arms of Vicki's chair. "There wasn't."

"He said –"

"He was talking about sacrificing his life with the hope that it would have stopped Pachacamec. But you and I both know that wouldn't have happened. Pachacamec would have drained Henry dry—pardon the pun—and still have been out there bringing nothing but death and destruction to the world. We would have been left without the means of destroying him or fighting any other demonic creatures sent your way. You made the right choice. It was a terrible choice, Vicki. But it was the only one that could be taken in order to save lives."

"And in doing so, I wound up bringing Asteroth that much further into this world!"

Coreen growled in frustration. "What in the world is wrong with you? Didn't you just tell me you had no doubts about the choices you made? Was that all just a lie to make me feel good? Cause if it was, I'm about two minutes from walking out and not coming back!" As soon as she said the words, Coreen knew she'd made a terrible mistake. Ok, so she was entitled to be a bit frustrated and a bit scared and maybe even a bit angry at having killed herself only to have Vicki sacrifice every last chance at happiness she ever had to bring her back to life, but threatening to walk out on her? Good one Coreen Fennel. She took a breath and as she did so, her eyes fell to the letters. "This is about Henry, isn't it? What did he say?"

A stuttering breath filled Vicki's lungs, but it was long seconds before the ex-cop released it to speak. When she did, her voice was scarcely a sound in the room. "He said he was in love with me."

"Like that comes as a shock to you?"

"Yes."

Coreen jumped to her feet. "You have got to be kidding me!"

"No, I'm not."

"You're telling me you did not know that Henry Fitzroy was in love with you."

Vicki folded her arms across her chest. "It was a game, Coreen. Like hide and seek or tug of war. I intrigued him, shocked him out of a century of complacency. I was the one woman out of thousands who didn't fall at his feet. It wasn't love!"

"Oh, Vicki, don't lie to yourself. You knew he loved you. And you love him."

"He loved lots of women."

"No, he **fed** from lots of women, had sex with lots of women, no doubt. He's a creature of sensuality. You denied him. At every turn! What reason did you give him to want to change that? Was he supposed to deny his nature while waiting for you to make up his mind?"

Vicki didn't answer, because right there was the crux of her problem; Henry's very nature. Vampire heightened senses, extraverted sensuality, and centuries of positive reinforcement equaled a man who was supremely confident in his talents for satisfying a woman. But Vicki didn't want to be just another woman on his long and never ending chain of them. She wanted to be the woman, the one who obliterated the memory of every other woman he has ever had. She wanted to be special, but because she wasn't, really, aside from her obvious marks of Fate. And that wasn't the kind of special she wanted to be. She was just another ex-cop trying to still be of some use to the world after the official position was no longer viable. She was and ex-girlfriend, an ex-partner, an ex-daughter, and an ex-lover.

_Yep, nothing special there._

And the acknowledgement of that ate at her. The one thing she wanted, wanted more than being a successful P.I. she would never be able to obtain. She just wasn't good enough to be more than a passing fancy in the great vampire prince's ever changing harem. But she thought better of herself than to offer herself up onto the proverbial heart break platter. She didn't think she could recover. _Hell, look at me now! I never gave in and still my heart hurts. How much harder would it have been if I had allowed myself to indulge my heart's dreams?_

_What was worse than a predator falling in love with his prey? A mortal woman fated to go blind falling head over heels for an immortal prince._

"You're right, Coreen. I never gave him reason to want to change."

Coreen blinked. She had not expected Vicki to ever say those three words. 'You're right, Coreen.' She wanted to jump and twirl and do the whoot-whoot dance right there in the office, but she refrained. "Has it ever occurred to you, Vicki, that Asteroth is behind all of this?"

Vicki frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what if Asteroth had planned this all from the beginning as a way of getting back at Henry. What if by pulling on the strings of Fate, he manipulated us like pieces on a chessboard?"

"I think you give him far too much credit."

"Maybe we don't give Asteroth enough; and Henry too. Henry has said all along that we really didn't know what we were up against. Or maybe it was just coincidence that got everyone to Norman's apartment that night, but the moment Asteroth saw Henry and you, that's when things went to Hell….so to speak. From that point on he has tested the boundaries not only of your own moral code, but also Henry's involvement with you. What better way to exact his revenge on the vampire then to steal away the woman he loved? The woman he swore to protect?"

Vicki stared at the Goth, dumbfounded that for once the girl was actually making sense. "So what you're saying, Coreen, is that this is nobody's fault. We have all been manipulated…are still being manipulated, and the only redemption to be found is in the choices we make while being so."

Black hair bounced with enthusiasm as Coreen nodded. "I've been thinking about this for the last few days. Asteroth knew Henry's aversion to black magic is consuming, with no room for bending. That's Henry's upbringing. Catholic faith denotes any use of magic to be evil regardless of the reason behind the use. As far as Henry is concerned the means does not justify the end. I get that now. Asteroth knew that an act as that would bound to have a crippling effect on his relationship with you. He manipulated events and placed you in the untenable position of forcing you to use black magic to save Henry's life because he knew you would not leave him to be killed."

"And he has been making every attempt to get Henry out of the picture."

"Psychological warfare. Emotional manipulation is a demon's Raişon d'être. He's caused you both a great deal of sorrow. He's forcing you into a corner by taking away everything you ever loved; Mike, Henry….me. I bet he's trying to make it so that you will only have him to turn to in the end."

"Well if that's true, then he's gonna have to rethink his game plan. I would rather kill myself, then go to him for any aid."

"But that's just it, Vicki, you did already call out to him for help…to get rid of Pachacamec."

"To save Henry!"

"Exactly. He's got you're number Vicki. He knows your weakness and like a true Demon lord, he is using it."

For a long seconds both girls stared at each other. Time melted to minutes while each spun rapid ideas through their minds.

"You have to get Henry back."

"I have to get Henry back."

Their words were spoke simultaneously, eliciting a hesitant grin on each of their faces.

"But how? He was absolutely adamant about leaving." Vicki said. "I doubt a phone call with a 'Hello, Henry, I need you to come back', is going to do it."

"Maybe the answer is in his letters," suggested Coreen. "Maybe they are his last legacy of hope for the two of you."

"Last legacy of hope?" Vicki repeated with a raise of her brow. "A bit melodramatic, don't you think?"

"Henry **is** melodramatic. And passionate. And Honorable. And…."

"I get the picture, Coreen. No need to do a resume of the guy's attributes."

Coreen chuckled and turned toward her office. Just as she reached the threshold, she swung back. "Did you ever stop to think that Asteroth is manipulating your ability to commit to Henry? Asteroth wants you. He hates Henry. I doubt he'd want to see the two of you connect. It works better if he keeps the desire burning, but always pulls you back when you teeter on the edge. He gets off on other people's misery, you know."

"Yeah, the letch." Vicki sighed. "I don't know Coreen. You could be right."

"I could be right?" Coreen's voice was a high pitched squeal. "Twice in one day? I have got to mark this down!"

"Smart ass!"

Coreen's grin got bigger. "What makes you think I might be right?"

Vicki hesitated a moment before answering. This was not a comfortable subject for her. She was not the kid of woman who just gave out her deepest feelings to anyone. Not even to Mike. Then again, this blossoming Coreen, her easy manner, her open nonjudgmental point of view, it called to a part of Vicki she had always yearned for; the part that had so wanted a sister to share with. Coreen was young in years, but it didn't seem to count when it came to her oddball wisdom. She sighed. "Before the marks, I told Henry that I was attracted to him. It was right after I found out what he was."

Coreen nodded. "Well, then there you are. It's Asteroth that has been keeping the two of you apart. And now that we know his game, its time we take it back and make a few changes."

"You are seriously demented, you know that don't you?" Vicki asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah, and you have some letters to get back to. Want me to order in?"

"Food? That sounds good."

"Chinese?" Coreen suggested.

"Let's try something different."

"Italian?"

"Loaded with garlic!"

"Leave it to me." Bouncing out of the room, Coreen went to make the call.

Trusting her assistant did not need looking after, Vicki swung back to the letters and pulled the fourth one out. The envelope read simply; Victoria.

Huntress,

You have the beast and man in me at war. Divide and conquer is a military strategy I am well acquainted with, but this…this reunion of my disparate halves leaves me on uncertain ground. Have you seen that thing in me which left me weak in the past?

I thought I burned that heart out long ago, purged it in the colors of my work. Yet you seemed to have dragged it out of me without even trying. Just a question, one simple question, and the sincere desire within you lured me out; 'How did you become a vampire?'

I don't think I have volunteered that information in over three hundred years. Certainly I had to tease you with the details, but the crux of my rebirth, the reasons I chose eternity…that I have not spoken of to anyone else in a very long time.

And then you gave me life.

There was no will in me left to turn on my 'vampire charms" to seduce you into the bite. Pain and a feral rage filled me. I had no thought other than to feed and no hope in gathering the strength to hunt.

I wanted you.

I needed you.

But I could not lure you…Ahhh, the irony of it all. A vampire in the arms of a beautiful woman. A vampire desperate for blood. A vampire unable to vamp his prey.

I needed to feed.

And you fed me.

Words cannot adequately describe the gift you gave me. The power of your blood was raw, like the strongest drink magnified. It burned through my mouth and filled my heart. It settled into every molecule in my body, right down deep into my very soul.

I have seen you and you are now a part of me.

And then, before I had had a chance to truly find you, I nearly lost you. Not to just Asteroth, whose demonic countenance I have long feared would raise his vile essence from the bowels of Hell, but to another mortal man; a handsome man, a past lover. The very idea of this sets my fangs on edge. I cannot help but prowl the confines of my self-made cage. I stood there, invisible to you both and watched as he wrapped his arm about you with familiar intent. I listened as you laughed, the song of it ringing in my ears. The beast in me wanted to rip his still beating heart from his chest. The man in me felt my own being taken from mine.

This is not good, huntress, this position you have placed me in. If it weren't for Asteroth's promises burned into your flesh, I would leave you now…

Yes, that is a lie. I could no more leave you than the sun could leave the daytime sky to the moon.

You have captured the hunter's heart.

Now what will you do?

Henry, Vampire Prince


	5. Chapter 5

CONTINUED: The Letters: Confessions of a Vampire

DISCLAIMER: I hold no claim on the rights to the series Blood Ties or the Blood Books by Tanya Huff, but thank these marvelously blessed creative people for giving them life and then gifting them to us.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am so surprised and pleased by everyone's responses to The Letters. When I started with the idea, I thought most would think it kind of lame, and then I remembered if you are a fan of Blood Ties, then you are a person who still holds in your heart all the ideals of a perfect romance including the heartache, which makes the triumph all the sweeter. Love letters are a part of that; old fashioned like our dear Henry, but with the potential to be powerful beyond imaginations. Your compliments to the letters is such a relief to hear for they are the most difficult part of this story to write and I angst over them for days before I finally post them to this site.

HAPPY HENRY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL!

Chapter Five

An Old Fear

"Miss Vicki Nelson?"

If there was an accent she could call, an accent from Hell, that one was it, thought Vicki. Instinct born, not from too many years as a cop, but from the memory of that voice alone and the suffering it had caused to both her, Coreen, Papa Samdi, and hundreds of unnamed children in New Orleans, Vicki quickly pulled her asp from her top drawer and leaped to her feet.

"Oh! Mother, Mary, and Joseph, girl! Please, I mean you no harm!" The woman standing just inside her office doorway raised her hands, palms open and up.

"Yeah, well, I've heard that before," said Vicki as she narrowed her gaze in order to sharpen the blurred edges of the face in front of her.

"From my sister, Angelique, no doubt."

Vicki's asp did not waver, but she was beginning to see some distinct differences between the woman in her office and her memories of the Zombie queen. Where Angelique attire had been bold and brash, full of Mardi Gras colors and the gewgaws that signified her cultural connections, this woman was dressed in a avocado colored kakis, with a matching blazer. Beneath the open jacket she wore a pale yellow blouse with a folded down collar. Her shoes were casual tan suede with two inch heels while her black hair was styled more to suit a business woman than the wild random gathered look of a mambo.

"Angelique was your sister."

The woman nodded. "God rest her troubled soul."

"Well, I doubt God will be seeing much of her," said Vicki in an unforgiving tone.

"I know she did wicked things, Miss Vicki Nelson. I know what she and my brother Royalle did back home and here."

"And you, what did you do back in New Orleans?"

"I was sold, Miss Nelson. Sold to a sweet Vicar and his wife long before I could be influenced by my real parents."

Vicki blinked. Well, that was an answer she hadn't expected. "Sold? As in bondage? Slavery?"

"As in for food on the table, Miss Nelson. Apparently my parents were not always into the Old Gods. That did not come until a few years after Angelique and I were born. I am very grateful to God that he saw fit to spare me the abuse my brother and sister were put through. My only regret is that such was not to be for them."

Vicki listened to the speech, but never once lowered her asp. She didn't dare while everything in her was screaming this woman was a liar. Oh, man, where was Coreen when she needed her? "So by being sold to a preacher and his wife, you were spared the unholy influence. Funny thing about that," Vicki said slowly. "Forensics discovered your sister to have been well over a hundred years old when she…died."

The woman didn't flinch. Not once. In fact, as Vicki watched, her expression became more serene and relaxed. "We were born in a small village in the bayou on March 18, 1886. I was baptized Catherine Mary Jones."

Mouth dropping open, Vicki found herself at a loss. Why oh why did the unnaturally old ones want to hang out with her? "You're 121 years old. Please don't tell me you cut out the hearts of children!"

Catherine gasped. With swiftness born of reflex, her hands danced the symbol of the cross before her heart. "Oh sweet Lord above, no! How could you think such a thing?"

"Well, for one thing, your looks. Pretty damn good for a woman over a century old, don't you think?"

Catherine sighed. "I know you won't believe me, Miss Nelson, but God has answered my prayers. He granted me long life until I could find a way to see my sister's and brother's evil repaid with good. He has spared me the natural blessing of age, postponed my taking my place with Him until such time as I can once and for all ease the pain my family caused. I have worked tirelessly with those who had become lost to His faith. I have seen a great deal of evil in this world and have brought goodness in to wash it all away."

"Well, that's all very nice to hear, but…."

"You don't believe. And that is all right. I don't require you to," Catherine interrupted. Her voice was calm and sweet.

"Then what do you require?" Vicki demanded. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"Through a detective Celucci. The Toronto police located me last month after they discovered my address in my sister's personal affects."

"Her personal affects? Where did they find those?"

Catherine shrugged. The delicate movement shifted the jacket and blouse she wore, revealing a beautiful filigree cross in silver hanging about her neck. "Detective Celucci said it had been found in a warehouse raid. He didn't go into details."

"No, he wouldn't." She was none too happy to hear Mike had played a part in this without telling her. Then again, she wasn't too happy with him at all, for him maybe, but not with him. Not after all that he has said to her as of late.

"I was ever so grateful when I heard from him, though you might not like to think so."

Vicki watched as a sad smile wavered for a moment on Catherine's lips. The obvious regret reflected in her dark eyes almost lured Vicki in. Almost. Thanks to Angelique's manipulative nature, Vicki was no longer the trusting type, especially when it had to do with the Zombie queen. "So what is it you want with me? I mean, you can't expect me to believe you would come all this way to thank me for killing your sister."

"I am a very tired old woman, Miss Nelson. Don't let this body fool you. I have spent more than a lifetime trying to undo all the evil in the world my family has caused, and though Angelique did not leave upon you any lingering ill effects, there is still one last good thing I can do on this earth before I leave to find my own peace."

"And what is that?"

Catherine stepped forward, her shoes making no sound on the hardwood floor. "Your marks, Miss Nelson. I have come to help you with your marks."

Vicki flinched and without thought shoved her hands behind her back, asp and all. All of a sudden she felt a wave of shame wash over her. It took every ounce of will to prevent her from keeping the pain locked down deep inside her and keep the front of unconcern on her face.

"What marks would those be, Miss Jones?"

"You bear the devil's marks, Miss Nelson. The dark marks of Asteroth. They were set upon your flesh against your will and through them darkness follows you."

Vicki snorted. "Tell me something I don't know."

A smile curved Catherin's full lower lip and her dark eyes gleamed as she closed the distance between them. "Give me your hands, Miss Nelson. I am not here to hurt you."

"And I've heard that one quite a bit lately too," said Vicki. She did not move, however, as Catherine Jones came right up into her personal space. She couldn't move. Not because of some spell, but because there was still that little light of hope burning inside her. It told her day in and day out that somehow, somewhere, sometime, she was going to find a way beyond it all and if Angelique's twin sister said she knew the way, didn't she owe it to herself to at least listen? The irony of the moment was not lost on her. Angels and devils? Why not?

Bringing her hands forward, asp still held tight and at the ready, Vicki mentally prepared herself for Catherine Jones' touch. When it came, it was not cool like Henry's or burning hot like Asteroth's. Her fingers as they gently cradled the backs of Vicki's hands in her palms were soothing and warm.

Together, they gazed at the black marks that so terribly marred Vicki's delicate flesh.

"On the left hand you wear the binding ring of Asteroth. It holds you both together, linking him to you and this world. It was in the beginning a singular link, but when you called upon him to aid you, you cracked opened yourself to his influence. The only redemption there is that you desired his aid out of love, Miss Nelson, and not greed or self fulfillment. That alone kept you safe," said Catherine in a quiet voice.

"Safe? Asteroth walks this world in the body of a priest! You call that safe?"

"His power and time in such a form is limited, of that I can assure you." Catherine's dark skinned thumb brushed across the skin of Vicki's right wrist, drawing Vicki's attention back to her hands. "The symbol on the right is the key to unlocking the doorway between the Light and the Dark. Like all keys, Miss Nelson, you must remember, it has two purposes; to unlock and…"

"Lock," exclaimed Vicki. "You're telling me that these marks can work both ways? How?"

Sadness filled Catherine's eyes as she stared into Vicki's. "I am sorry, Miss Nelson, but that knowledge is beyond what God has granted me. I am come only to tell you about the third mark."

Vicki swayed. Her normally golden skin grew pale. "Third mark?"

"It is unseen, but it is with you nonetheless."

"Where?"

"Here." With gentle precision, Catherine raised Vicki's own left palm and placed it against her chest. "On your heart."

A tight band of emotion squeezed against Vicki's ribs as she felt her heart beat steady and hard against her palm. She didn't need to look into Catherine's eyes to know the truth of her words, they made too much sense to be denied.

"The devil desires two things from us mere mortals, Miss Nelson. He is the collector of souls, that is true, but he is also driven by jealousy and envy and lust without love. When he was cast out from God's grace, he lost his faith, his ability to love, the most powerful of all our human abilities. Asteroth seeks to own your heart, to possess the power within you that keeps you strong and fighting in this life. He is drawn to it, almost against his will. He hates it, fears it, and desires it above all things because it reminds him of all he once had when he walked along side God in Heaven. He has placed his mark on your heart, but that is **your** key, Miss Nelson. That is God's gift to you and it cannot be taken only given. God wants you to choose, Miss Nelson. You need to choose who you will give your heart to for if you do not, Asteroth will continue to pursue you to the end of your days and the days of all those around you. He will not stop until he has both your soul and your heart."

Tears, great big wet ones, filled Vicki's eyes and overflowed down her pale cheeks. She wanted to pull herself away from the woman who bore an enemy's face, but instead found herself falling into her embrace, the asp clattering noisily to the floor.

'Oh, my dear sweet child," crooned Catherine as she held her tightly. "I know it has been hard and perhaps it will be harder still before the end, but do not lose faith. To lose faith in anything is to lose hope. Do you understand, child?"

Face buried in the woman's neck, Vicki nodded.

Strong hands, comforting hands patted her back, then gently pushed her away. "Good. Good." A tremulous smile lit Catherin's face. "Then I have finally finished what I have set out to do and I may at last go home to the Lord."

As Vicki watched, numb and astonished, Catherine's form began to blur and glow.

"The good Lord watches over you, Miss Nelson. Never forget that He watches over us all, whether we like to believe in that or not." The words were whispered song melting on the breeze, echoing inside Vicki's head and her heart. And as Catherine Mary Jones' physical form faded from her office, Vicki spied Coreen standing at the door, her mouth agape and lunch scattered in a spilled heap of garlic, noodles, tomato and cream sauce on the floor.

"Good lord, what was that?" She cried stepping over the mess.

Vicki smiled. "An angel."

_Victoria_

_Your sweet kiss lingers upon my cold cheek even now, long after I followed you home unseen. The touch of your hand upon my face, its warm caress sooths the would-be beast in me tonight as nothing has ever done, not even blood. _

_Your bullheadedness, yes, I know you snarl at such an expression from my pen, but I can call it little else for the word stubbornness does not accurately describe the strength you use to persevere when the odds stack up against you. Just know that I am thankful for it by whatever name you choose to call it. It has made me see how complacent I have grown to be, how much pain and joy I have forgotten over the years. _

_You came to me for help and you woke in me old fears. The memories came crashing into my mind. The horrors of a single island night filled me with such pain and terror, but also woke in me an undeniable instinct to protect. I would not…could not…let what happened to me, to Sandrine, happen to you. _

_At your side, at your back, in front of you, I would protect you at the cost of my own life. I needed to keep you safe._

_And yet again, I almost lost you. _

_Perhaps that is why I followed you home, invisible to your blind eyes, but unable to help myself. You stood with me amidst the dead tonight. You fought darker natures equal to my own, yet you did not once feel that I let you down. You held me for the briefest moment, when I wanted to hold you for all eternity._

_The hunter chained willingly to the huntress._

_Henry,_

_your besotted, foolish Vampire Prince_


End file.
